Count Guy of Thouars, 914-948 AD

(Previously on Royal Dispatch.)

The family tree has certainly expanded since ol’ Geoffroy took over. Dude had 17 grandchildren! The four wives helped.

One detail I completely overlooked is the problem of confederate partition—the early-game law of succession that divides a lord’s lands equally among his heirs and creates any possible but not-yet-created titles to facilitate the division. This becomes a problem at succession when you have more than one top-level title of the same rank. Ergo, now “my” hard-won county of Montaigu is in my twin brother Gilbert’s hands.

To avoid this, what you really want to do as early as possible is take over a duchy as your main title. If I had done so as Geoffroy, then Gilbert would still have gotten Montaigu, but he would be Guy’s vassal. Geoffroy just had no chance of talking the necessary land to make this happen.

But now it’s Guy Time. He will have to move against several members of his own family to have any hope of winning that duchy title. Let’s see what he’s made of himself since reaching the age of majority.

My traits are callous and cynical, but diligent! And good with gold. However I have some issues right off the bat. First is that despite more than a decade of marriage, my wife and I only have child—our daughter and heir Isabeau, who has some good traits going for her. However, Isabeau has two problems: she has the inherited trait “spindly,” which makes her physically weak and a bit infirm. And she’s paranoid, which is bad for a ruler because you’re extremely susceptible to mental breaks from stress.

The first order of business is to try and romance my wife Blanche so we can become more frequently and productively amorous. (Good thing I don’t know that she once threw herself at my father Geoffroy.) We’re both cynical, but I’m cynical and callous, whereas she’s cynical and compassionate. These opposed traits give me a very low chance of romancing her, but an even chance of seducing her. I would not care to venture a guess as to why that is so.

With the seduction scheme in progress, I need to improve my court’s opinion of me. As a new ruler, everyone views me with relative contempt. Not as bad as when Geoffroy started out, but there’s another difference: when Geoffroy was crowned, he was broke. But he left me a hefty treasury, which is a great way to buy friends as a new ruler. Thanks Dad.

I spend some gold to throw a feast, which improves the opinions of some in my court (notably my wife). But my councillors are still grumbling if not openly rebellious.

So here’s my problem. I really need to become a duke, pronto. To do that, I need to control all or at least a majority of the counties in a particular duchy. The issue is that in my local duchy of Poitou—where my home county of Thouars is situated—the other three counties are controlled by my twin brother, my nephew, and my liege/brother-in-law. Attacking family is dicey, and it also robs you of potential allies. So instead, I decide to set my sights on the neighboring duchy of Anjou to the north.

For reference, in the above map, the county of Thouars is the blue outline inside Poitou. Moving against Anjou will not be easy by any means, but it has more pros than cons. So, first step is to send my bishop to start fabricating an actionable claim on the county of Saumur to the immediate north. It’s one of the four counties that make up the duchy of Anjou.

My scheme to seduce my wife seems to be making little progress at first. I choose to send her a model castle as a gift, to which she responds that she doesn’t know why I sent such a thing, but that she would “make note of it.” The medieval equivalent of leaving someone on read. So I just send her a pile of gold, which she likes. Cut to the chase, Romeo.

The next event in the seduction chain has me choose a reading, and I go for something “informative”—she’s a genius, remember. Blanche seems to vibe with it.

Good choice, Guy!

Meanwhile, I’ve discovered not one but two plots to murder my half-sister Ermengarde. Yes, there are still some Ermengardes kicking around. This one was originally married to Renaud the count of Evreaux. When he was killed in battle, she somehow ended up married to a knight in the duchy of Toulouse, and even more inexplicably is living in my court in Thouars rather than over there with her husband. It may be because she and Guy are considered friends, which must have happened before his coronation. Unclear why anyone would want to kill her, or who the would-be-murderer might be. Hope it’s not my wife!

Whoops Ermengarde’s knight husband also died in battle? No worthwhile potential ally is interested in a match, so I marry her off to an unlanded rando with high combat skill, gaining myself a free knight at least.

My sneaky bishop succeeds in fabricating a claim on the county of Saumur. Now I just need to set the table for a speedy and advantageous war. But not before successfully concluding my scheme to seduce Blanche! We are now ~lovers~. Let’s make a ton of non-spindly genius babies.

Damn that was fast! I really hope we can generate some fine young sons here, because it’s time for my current only child, daughter, and heir to marry. I have to play it safe with her in case she ends up inheriting my titles, so I need a matrilineal marriage.

That cuts down the interested bachelor pool as usual. I seal the deal with a guy who’s relatively mediocre but whose traits offset Isabeau’s problems to an extent (he has the “hale” inheritable trait, which I’m hoping could counter her spindly trait in any children). Plus his name is Isidor von Magdeburg, which goes great with Isabeau. Remember dear departed Blahoslav? I’m partial to resonant names.

Isabeau’s still a paranoiac though, which is very difficult to play as a ruler. Let’s hope this new baby on the way will be a … oh never mind, once again the de Thouars genetic preference for daughters has proven out. Welcome to little Esclarmonde. (Blanche wanted to name her Blanche, which seems a little on the nose.) The baby is not a genius like her mother but has the “intelligent” trait, which would still be pretty good.

By the way, it turns out it was my twin brother Gilbert and his wife who were separately plotting to murder my half-sister and friend Ermengarde, apparently because she considers them both her rivals.

I’m now considering the possibility of rebelling against my own liege Duke Arnaud to gain that coveted duchy title, using a particular ability I have due to my stewardship skills. It’s a plot that, if successful, gives me a claim on my liege’s principal title. It wouldn’t be the precise duchy I want, but it would do the trick. Still, he’s a little too strong at the moment. I can start that plot anytime. Weirdly, Arnaud comes to offer me information, in exchange for a favor, about the identity of whoever murdered his daughter (thus my niece). Sounds like a “you” problem my dude.

Otherwise it’s back to the patented hurry up and wait, hoping for either the Duke of Anjou or my own liege to slip up. But! Blanche gave birth to a son, giving me a shot at dodging the lovely but spindly and paranoid Isabeau as my heir. Of course I name him Guy. Guy 2! He’s not a genius either, but he is intelligent. Smart Guy!

Who’s not a smart guy is me, because when I wasn’t looking, the underage Duke of Anjou betrothed himself to one of the King of West Francia’s underage daughters, meaning they are now allied. If I attack Anjou now, he’ll have the king’s rather large army at his back. Just gonna step back away from that plan for a bit.

Feeling stuck, I begin to explore … unconventional solutions. My liege Duke Arnaud holds three duchy titles. I have the ability to lead a plot against him to claim his “principal” title, which if successful would give me the Duchy of Aquitaine. What I really want is the Duchy of Poitou, which contains my home county of Thouars.

I notice that Arnaud has two sons, meaning his titles will be divided on his death under the rules of confederate partition. The younger son is in line to inherit only the Duchy of Poitou and one county. He would be a much easier liege to overthrow. But Duke Arnaud is the same age as me and in fine health. It’s unlikely I’ll outlast him … naturally, that is.

Did I happen to mention that I serve on Arnaud’s council as his spymaster? And did you know that a spymaster is very good at plots … against their own liege? Sorry Arnaud, you gotta go.

Time is always a factor when plotting a murder. By spending gold to bribe a couple of malcontents in Arnaud’s court, I cut the projected plot time from 8 years to 22 months.

While the plot simmers, I watch various neighbors go to war. I fend off sexy advances from my nephew’s wife. What is it with this family!

As the murder plot nears time for launch, I take a risk and ask the Pope for gold, since there are often last-minute expenses to do the actual murder part. This lessens his opinion of me for a time, though it will still be just barely positive. Have to watch that though. If the Pope doesn’t like you, it’s easier for your enemies to get you excommunicated. That is Very Bad.

Disaster strikes when Duke Arnaud’s second son dies under mysterious circumstances! This means that if I murder Arnaud, his sole surviving son gets all his titles—putting me in the exact same position I’m already in with Arnaud, vis a vis peeling off the one duchy of his that I actually want. Hate it when somebody else’s murder plot gets in the way of my murder plot!!

And of course my plot comes to fruition immediately. Satisfying as it would to execute, so to speak, doing so would gain nothing now. I cancel the hit. Blissfully ignorant of his brush with death at my hand, Arnaud gets to continue living because someone else killed one of his sons. Is that irony, Lady Alanis?

A few months back I noticed my precious son and heir, Guy 2, was ill. I spent gold on hiring Charlotte, a very skilled court physician, and I’m glad I did because as Guy 2 recovers, I myself become ill. The physician’s recommended treatment of bleeding from my “armpits and temples” seems to have done the trick. Good Charlotte!

Turning back to the possibility of taking over the duchy of Anjou to the north, I watch for the king of West Francia to die, which would leave the weak duke there unprotected. The king is old and ill, and he dies, but I fail to account for the division of his titles. Now my own realm is vassal to the newly separate kingdom of Aquitane, while Anjou falls across the border in the old kingdom of West Francia. Meaning I’d have to take on the new king of West Francia to attack Anjou. Stupid fair inheritance laws!

Now I’m really in a tough spot for gaining territory, surrounded by relatives and webs of obligation that are difficult to turn to my advantage. The first actual Crusade finally launches—targeting Muslim-held Jerusalem—and I reluctantly agree to kick in some gold to finance it, though I have no intention of getting involved militarily. I got local stuff to focus on here.

Not so my liege the Duke Arnaud, who goes off and gets himself killed in the Crusade. As predicted, his son Geoffroy de Poitou gets all his titles, leaving me still blocked from more practically snatching a usable duchy from him. I start a plot to fabricate claims on the nearby independent duchy of Nantes, though the petty king who rules it is pretty strong. I’m also now past 50 years old, so have to be careful about overcommitting resources and making things difficult for my heir should I die unexpectedly.

My daughter Esclarmonde comes of age. I pack her off to marry the count of Guines, in relatively distant Flanders, to cement an alliance there. Likely won’t mean much, but the alternatives were various counts even farther away in East Francia and Bavaria.

My nephew, the new duke of Aquitaine—Geoffroy no less—appoints my twin brother Gilbert his new spymaster, and me his new chancellor. Would have preferred to be spymaster so I could mount stronger plots against him, but it’s unlikely I’ll have the opportunity anyway.

I manage to fabricate a claim on the county of Nantes in the eponymous duchy. The duke is weak from crusading, but he has a single powerful non-weak ally in the Duke of Neustria, which makes his total force comparable to mine. I’d prefer to wait until that alliance expires, or a I can cement additional alliances of my own to greater advantage. Patience, patience.

For some reason my daughter Esclarmonde and her count husband split up. Lacking any useful alliance prospects, I invite her back to my court and marry her matrlineally to a landless dude with the “Herculean” trait, meaning he is strong and good at fighting. Since she has the intelligent trait, with luck they’ll produce some strong and fierce de Thouars kids.

I’ve been keeping an eye on managing my stress level due to juggling all these delicate concerns, and clearly I was too distracted as a spouse to notice that my dear Blanche had developed a drinky-drinky problem to deal with her own issues. So much so that she abruptly drinky’d herself to death.

Even though she was my beloved lover, I only gain a little stress from her death because I am a callous bastard. See ya, Blanche. I still need a consort but don’t want more children to divide inheritance should I expand my realm, so I search and find an infertile age-appropriate Slovien lady named Slavomíra Kocelid as my new bride. Let us grow old together my sweet Slavo.

Guy Junior has come of age, and he’s quite the strapping lad. His main weakness is intrigue, and since it’s quite possible he’ll get involved in some skullduggery, I decide the marriage priority needs to be someone who can make up for that. So I match him with a nice young lowborn French lady named Pernette who is a real schemer, as well as having the “lustful” trait, which should settle out to good baby production. They look cute and matchy-matchy.

The next few years are quiet. I marry off a couple granddaughters to good fighters, acquiring a reserve of knights at the court. Guy Junior has two children in quick succession, and even my daughter Esclarmonde has a new kid—all three daughters of course. Other than my twin count brother over in Montaigu, all my older siblings (all sisters) have died. No convenient instability presents itself for me to take advantage of in the immediate vicinity, so I begin saving up gold to build a new holding inside the county of Thouars. This is an expensive proposition but has long-term benefits of taxes, levies, and creating a new vassal.

I get the chance to hit up the Pope for gold again, and that’s enough to build the new spot—a city holding named Parthenay. Cities provide decent gold and a few troops. Next I’ll have to save up and build a church.

My twin brother Gilbert drinks himself to death over in Montaigu, meaning I’m the last of my siblings left alive. Who cares, I’m callous! My attention is drawn once again to Nantes, where I still have a county claim. The local duke is being attacked by a significant Norse invasion that could give me an opening if I don’t die myself before it wraps up.

Speaking of dying, my idiot son and heir Guy 2 accidentally murders a peasant while hunting, and we fail to cover up the crime. As a known murderer, he’s now got a permanent penalty on opinion from anyone, which will be an annoying problem when he’s ruler.

Which is now! I abruptly kick the bucket of natural causes. Good luck, next Guy!

Next: The second Guy is the charm.